càThràfàeLà

First Grade - True Story

cathrafaela — Fri, 22 Jun 2007 04:41:14 +0000

One day the first grade teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class. She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to accumulate the building materials for his home. She read, “…And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said, “Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?’” The teacher paused then asked the class, “And what do you think that man said?” One little boy raised his hand and said, “I think he said ‘Holy %$#@! A talking pig!’” The teacher was unable to teach for the next 10 minutes.

tHe mOst bEauTifuL hEArt

cathrafaela — Mon, 19 Sep 2005 17:15:07 +0000

One day a young man was standing n d middle of d toWn procLaiming dat he had d mOst beautifuL heart n d whoLe vaLLey. A large croWd gathered nd dey oL admired his hEart for it was perfEcT. Der was no mark or a fLaw n it. Yes, dey oL agreed it truLy was d mOst bEauTiful hEart dey had evr seEn.

D young maN was vry prOUd nd bOaSted mOre LOudLy abouT hiS bEauTifuL hEart.

SuddENLy, an oLd maN apPearD at d fRoNT of d croWd nd sed, "Y ur hEart s nOt nEarLy as bEauTifuL as myn."

d croWd nd d yOung maN lukd at d old maN’s hEart nd saw itS sTate nd laughed. "u muSt b joking," he sed. "Compare ur hEart w/ myn, myn s peRfecT nd urs s a meSs of scaRs nd teArs."

"yeS," sed d oLd maN, "Urs s peRfecT Luking but i wud nvr trade w/ u. U c evry scar representS a person 2 whom i hav given my LOvE - i tear ouT a piece of my hEart nd giv it 2 dem, nd often dey giv me a piece of their hEart w/c fits n2 d empTy pLace n my hEart, but bcOs d pieces rn’t exact, i hav sum rough edges, w/c i cherish, bcOs dey remind me of d LOvE we shareD.

Sumtyms i hav given pieces of my hEart, nd d oder persOn hasn’t returnd a piece of hiS hEart 2 me. These r d empty gouges — givng LOvE s taking a chanS. Although theSe gouges r painfuL, dey stay open, remindng me of d LOvE i hav 4 theSe pPoL 2, nd i hope sumday dey may return nd fiL d space i hav waiting. So now dO u c wat true bEauTy s?"

D yOung maN stOod siLentLy w/ tears runnin doWn hiS cheeks, He waLkd up 2 d oLd maN, reachd n2 hiS perfeCt yOung nd bEauTifuL hEart, nd ripped a piece ouT. He offerd it 2 d oLd maN w/ trembling hanDs. D oLd maN tOok hiS offering, pLaced it n hiS hEart nd tOok a piece frm hiS oLd scarrd hEart nd pLAced it n d wound n d yOung maN’s hEart. It fit, but noT perfeCtLy, as der wer sum jaggd edges.

D yOung maN lukd at hiS hEart, noT perfeCt anymor but mor bEauTifuL dan evr, sins LOvE frm d oLd maN’s hEart fLowd n2 hiS. Dey mbraced nd walkd away side by side.

How sad it muSt b 2 gO tru lyf w/ a whoLe hEarT.

rmmbr:

wOrk lyk u dOnt nid d money.

LOve lyk u’v nvr bin hUrt.

danS lyk nobody s watchin.

thE PìNK dReSs

cathrafaela — Wed, 15 Jun 2005 15:31:11 +0000

There was this little girl sitting by herself in the park. Everyone passed by her and never stopped to see why she looked so sad. Dressed in a worn pink dress, barefoot and dirty, the girl just sat and watched the people go by. She never tried to speak. She never said a word. Many people passed by her, but no one would stop.

The next day I decided to go back to the park in curiosity to see if the little girl would still be there. Yes, she was there, right in the very spot where she was yesterday, and still with the same sad look in her eyes. Today I was to make my own move and walk over to the little girl. For as we all know, a park full of strange people is not a place for young children to play alone. As I got closer I could see the back of the little girl’s dress. It was grotesquely shaped. I figured that was the reason people just passed by and made no effort to speak to her. Deformities are a low blow to our society and, heaven forbid if you make a step toward assisting someone who is different.

As I got closer, the little girl lowered her eyes slightly to avoid my intent stare. As I approached her, I could see the shape of her back more clearly. She was grotesquely shaped in a humped over form. I smiled to let her know it was OK; I was there to help, to talk. I sat down beside her and opened with a simple, "Hello". The little girl acted shocked, and stammered a "hi", after a long stare into my eyes. I smiled and she shyly smiled back. We talked until darkness fell and the park was completely empty. I asked the girl why she was so sad. The little girl looked at me with a sad face said, "Because, I’m different". I immediately said, "That you are!" and smiled. The little girl acted even sadder and said, "I know". "Little girl," I said, "you remind me of an angel, sweet and innocent." She looked at me and smiled, then slowly she got to her feet and said, "Really?" "Yes, you’re like a little Guardian Angel sent to watch over all people walking by." She nodded her head yes, and smiled. With that she opened the back of her pink dress and allowed her wings to spread, then she said "I am." I’m your Guardian Angel," with a twinkle in her eye. I was speechless — sure I was seeing things. She said, "For once you thought of someone other than yourself. My job here is done". I got to my feet and said, "Wait, why did no one stop to help an angel?" She looked at me, smiled, and said, "You’re the only one that could see me," and then she was gone. And with that, my life was changed dramatically.

So, when you think you’re all you have, remember, your angel is always watching over you. Like the story says, we all need someone…And, every one of your friends is an Angel in their own way. The value of a friend is measured in the heart.